


A moment of weakness

by Arin_K



Category: Resident Evil (Movieverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: AU: Chris and Leon met enough times to get to know and respect each other, Chris POV, Depressed Leon, Hopeful Ending, Horrible Fluff, Hurt Leon, Hurt/Comfort, I’m sorry for everything I did here, M/M, Moment of Weakness, Monsterfucking, Motorcycle Sex, Protective Chris, Vendettaverse, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arin_K/pseuds/Arin_K
Summary: They saved the informant, hid Rebecca, got armed and ready, anticipated everything... Except the building festering with living dead and Leon being captured while fighting them alone to save Chris some precious time. It’s his life vs the whole city now, but Chris had already lost too much friends and allies.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Arias, Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Comments: 9
Kudos: 120





	A moment of weakness

He’s running and running, and there’s no end to the dead, the  _ living _ dead, the thought of him killing potentially alive people to save even more people not setting in his head properly, not leaving him at peace as the gunfire rips bodies around him, spilling unusually red blood. Leon’s way of killing them with a single shot to the head seems merciful now.

His headset comes to life with a short static noise, and it’s Arias, of course it’s fucking Arias, voice seeping cruel mockery.

“I think I have something that belongs to you, Redfield. Even two things, believe it or not.”

“Stop these damn games, come out and fucking face me!”

The whole city is dying down there, and Chris can’t believe Arias hopes to stop him with good old bluff.

What can he have? 

Or is it… a who?   
“You don’t believe me? Can’t blame you, even though I’ve never broken my word, unlike your government.”

Rebecca is at a safehouse, they made sure to hide her properly before moving out, as well as the informant.

Leon is fighting somewhere here, buying Chris time to look for the vaccine, and will show up as soon as he’s finished, as he always does. Chris feels a pang of guilt for leaving the man to kill all those people, knowing how deep Leon is usually hurt by every single death - but Leon suggested it himself.

There’s a chuckle in his headset, and the sound of a slap.

“Wake up, hero, it must have worn off by now.”

Chris finds himself frozen in place. It’s definitely “a who”, and, knowing Arias, it’s someone close, someone he knows well. Someone the bastard can hurt him through.

Someone from the force?

One of his friends?

“Not too talkative, as I have noticed. But we’ll work on that soon. Did I get you interested, Redfield?”

Chris swallows, hard. He lost too many friends and allies already, he can’t lose anyone else, he can’t, no more.

“Don’t you dare even lay a finger.”

Arias answers with a short laugh, sounding satisfied with his reaction.   
“If you want some video footage, I’d suggest a third door to the left.”

The mentioned door leads into some kind of a video surveillance chamber, but instead of assorted rooms and corridors, there’s Arias’ face on all the screens, the bastard looking calm and composed, as he usually does. Waiting. Having no doubt Chris will act as he’d planned.

“Good job. Your friend is grateful, trust me. Now let’s reveal the mystery.”

Arias steps back from the eye of the camera, and Chris chokes on a prepared snarky answer. Pang of guilt turns into a shark bite.

The picture relieves Chris of any doubt: Arias is sick, totally fucked up in the head, mixing his beloved aesthetics with some darkest fantasies, the picture won’t come together in his head, the ropes digging into bare skin painfully, crude texture contrasting with the smooth metal of the bike,  _ why would he even do that _ ?   
“Imagine my surprise, finding out I have a person who doesn’t exist here, in my hands. Leon S. Kennedy, miraculously surviving - how many encounters with the virus?”

The video glitches, letting Chris blink  _ at last _ , still shocked and not believing what he’s seeing. Leon is so perfect in everything he does, acting all alone saving him from any mistakes, yet there he is, and seeing him  _ caught _ , naked and helpless and restrained like this on top of the bike he liked so much is… outrageous. Leon stares right into the camera, half of his face hidden behind the long hair, radiant blue eyes burning with hate and shame. He tries to stay strong. He knows Chris is watching.

“Turned out to have a natural immunity, what a perfect test subject. We used his blood to create something new. Let’s see how he reacts to this.”   
“Arias!” Chris can only grit his teeth, watching Leon close his eyes helplessly, shuddering as the needle is being slowly inserted in his neck, hands behind his back balling up into fists. He’s tied up so thoroughly he can’t move at all, yet Arias still holds him by the hair, lifting the long bangs to let the camera shoot his face properly.

Chris knows that would have made Leon break the opponent’s hand… in different circumstances. Chris knows he wasn’t ready  _ to see  _ his face, losing colour and twisting in pain, brow furrowed, mouth opening slightly as he chokes on a pained gasp. Vile dark-blue colour shots through all the veins on his restrained body like a wave, and Chris can only growl in anger and frustration. The fucker got Leon infected. How did he even get the blood sample?   
Then he remembers them getting Rebecca out of that hotel in Rocky Mountains, Leon ending up with his hand cut by a glass shard, bleeding all over the floor  _ because they had more important things to do _ . Thank god Leon told them to shut up the moment Chris got out a laptop and dragged both of them to his room. No way they’d have survived the attack sitting in front of those giant windows downstairs.

“From my calculations, it will take over him in about twenty minutes. What will you choose, Redfield? Saving the city or saving one special person?”

“Chris, don’t even think of it!” Leon shouts into the camera, face distorted with rage and terror.

“Hang on! I will get you out, just hang on!”

Chris sets the timer quickly. 

“You like this toy so much, driving it up the stairs like that. Why don’t we have a little fun on it?”

He is rushing out of the room when another sound leaves him frozen in place. 

A zipper, a fucking zippier, and Chris turns back to the screens slowly, terrified, only to see Arias close,  _ way too close _ , left hand pressing on Leon’s back posessively, right hand…

“No,” Leon says distinctly, the microphone good enough to send his panicked breathing right into Chris’ ear, tone making the man shudder. “No.”

“You sick fuck, don’t you dare!” 

“Don’t tell me you’d have refused to fuck him like this if he consented.”   
Chris grits his teeth, tearing his eyes away from the screens, because it’s not Arias’ fucking business, it’s too complicated to even sort out between the two of them, and now Chris can only start running, heavy stomping filling the empty corridors, his stealth is shit and he desperately needs to get Leon out.

“Don’t want to answer? Who is he to you, Redfield? Did I get it right and you are  _ very _ close friends?”

There’s a short scream,  _ Leon’s _ scream, Chris recognises it even though he’d never ever heard one, had never ever thought something can make the man sound so hurt and helpless, and Arias starts laughing like a maniac he is, fleshy slapping and satisfied grunts filling the broadcast, almost drowning out the little pained gasps and moans - Leon is trying to hold his voice down so hard, Leon, who should have been in Colorado now, not getting… hurt tied up to his vehicle of choice. Chris desperately fights the urge to rip the headset and crush it. As if it will stop the nightmare from happening.

He notices screens here and there as he runs, probably used to entertain the visitors, now showing one and the same sick picture, and Chris shoots them before even looking properly, too afraid to see Leon’s face, to look him in the eyes and see the light die out as he breaks.

Chris needs some kind of plan. He can’t think about anything, because somewhere in this building Glen Arias is hurting someone important to him in the worst way possible, and the damn zombies are flooding the corridors, slowing him down so much…

  
Chris is barely finished with another horde of undead when the voice creeps in his ear again, accompanied by a shocked gasp.

“Such a good fuck… but I guess you know best.”

Leon is sobbing quietly, on the verge of hearing, making Chris clench his teeth until the jaw goes numb, shooting the last zombie until its body is almost ripped apart as he almost loses his mind.  _ How dares he _ .

“I’ve got things to do, places to visit, but don’t worry, I have someone to keep your pretty boy company. Hope you’re here before all my henchmen turn him into their bitch.”   
Chris looks for a new screen desperately, both wanting and not wanting to know because it can’t be happening, it makes no sense - it makes sense, because it slows him down, letting Arias work on his plan in peace, but there’s Leon, hanging on the ropes helplessly, exhausted and  _ fucked out _ , face glistening from tears, skin torn from how hard he struggled against the restraints, the rattling sound and heavy footsteps approaching him somewhere off-screen.

“You used to be a human,” Leon says, voice low and raspy, fighting the pain of the virus taking over his body and the  _ other _ pain. “You don’t have to obey his orders, you don’t have to do this.”

The creature is enormous, making Leon look so small and breakable and insignificant, he won’t survive it, it will just crush him and tear him apart...

“Arias! Fucking stop this! Stop this, you bastard!”

The creature puts its hands on Leon’s tied body, settling behind him, making Leon shut his eyes tightly, breaths more like sobs, he knows it will hurt, he can’t stop it. There’s an anguished scream as the thing  _ thrusts _ , and Chris can’t look, can’t make himself, just lowers his head and starts running, disgusting sounds resonating in his ears through the headset. Metallic rattling and the wet slaps, accompanied by choked grunts and breathless cries, he can’t listen to it, he has no right to witness it yet he listens, every broken moan ripping at his heart, but it’s the only way to know Leon is still alive somewhere there, and he keeps running, keeps listening, gripping the rifle so hard there probably will be bruises under his nails. He dragged Leon into this, and he’s getting him out, and giving him the vacation of his life, god knows the man deserves it. Leon needs some rest, at least a few days of calm and not-so-sad existence. Too bad Chris did not understand it the moment he saw Leon drowning his brilliant mind in whiskey.

Chris breaks the door down guided by pure rage, and it’s all here, the bike, polished metal shining softly in the spotlight, and the giant man, looming over Leon’s suddenly so small body.

The mutant lets go of Leon’s hips, turning to the sound, taking a step back, and there is blood, bright red on the fair skin, glistening on the black leather of the motorbike seat, and Chris tries not to look, too afraid of losing his mind entirely when he needs to fight the giant, to fuck Arias up for what he did… to get Leon out. Get Leon healed. 

Bullets can’t do much harm, not even piercing the monster’s skin, and Chris ends up just trying to get him away from Leon so that the man won’t get hurt  _ any more _ accidentally.

The giant totally misses an inflammable grenade under his feet, and it burns, and Chris knows he will be glad to see this whole place burn, Glen Arias on top of that pyre. He takes a moment to regain breath, totally forgetting about himself as he hears a weak cough. The stench of burnt flesh is disgustingly thick in the air.

Chris gets to his feet and rushes to the bike, and blood-ropes-metal-bruises just won’t form a complete picture in his head.

“Leon, I…  _ Oh god. _ ”

“Just… don’t say anything.”

His voice is quiet and shaky, Leon won’t even open his eyes, pale face twisting in pain as the too visible veins on his neck throb. His body is weirdly relaxed, head hanging helplessly, as if he has no strength left, and seeing him like this, knowing what was done to him breaks Chris’ heart into million pieces over and over.

He has to touch him, and the thought is somehow terrifying. Feeling some more hands on his skin is probably the last thing Leon wants now and will want for a long, long time.

The man is all tangled in the rough ropes, as if in some kind of shibari, Chris’ brain screaming “why would he even do that”, he doesn’t know where to start, can’t look Leon in the eyes, too afraid to see him broken beyond repair, shouldn’t have left him to fight alone.

Thank god he’s alive.

“God, Leon… oh god,  _ I’m so sorry _ .”

Leon never answers, staring into nowhere mindlessly, trying to breathe, way too shocked and hurt.

Chris starts with his ankles, hands shaking slightly as he cuts the ropes carefully, trying not to cut Leon’s skin and not to touch him… much, every brush of his gloved fingers sending a shiver and a wave of goosebumps through Leon’s abused body. When his hands are free at last, Leon just hangs there for a moment, boneless, draped over the vehicle, his skin a mess of rope burns and bruises and handprints, getting himself together before pushing up, shoulders tensing as an unwanted pained sound leaves his mouth.

Chris looks around, hoping to find something to cover him with, finding only some lab coats, draping the white cloth over Leon’s shoulders, saving him from the inevitable skin contact, holds him gently as he tries to get up, crawl off the vehicle, smearing blood all over his long legs, biting lips to not make any more sounds, embarrassed, so embarrassed, and Chris feels a lump in his throat because he has no idea what to do, how to help, until Leon’s knees just buckle under the weight of what happened to him. And Chris is there just in time to catch him, and tightly hug him for a second, not sure who of them needs it more. It’s weird and almost surreal, the way Leon’s body relaxes under his hands as Chris lays him down on the floor carefully, the injured man keeping his eyes closed, only breathing heavily. Chris keeps holding him to his armoured chest with one hand, going through his stuff, panicking, not able to focus, because Leon’s skin is grey and  _ dead _ compared to his own, veins pulsing painfully, no medicine Chris may have is able to cure this; because Leon is shaking from shock and nakedness and and Chris has to help him, has to stop at least  _ this _ pain. He wouldn’t have been so injured if Chris came for him faster, instead of staring at Arias preparing for the act... He wouldn’t have been here at all if Chris didn’t drag him into this fight.

“I told you not to… Only lost the time. I’m of no use now.”

His voice is so calm it gives Chris goosebumps.

“You’re a unique specialist”, he mumbles, hurriedly shuffling through the medical kit. “We need you.”   
There are some mixed herb capsules, and Chris goes for double dose, triple dose, not even sure it will be enough. Leon doesn’t object, eyes still closed, as if he is afraid to face Chris after what the man was forced to witness.   
Chris checks the watch, hating the dead, awkward silence.   
“Let’s get you out of here.”

“Redfield, just go already. I’ll manage.”

Leon is breathing heavily, wincing in pain as the virus takes over his body, yet still trying to sit up. Not succeeding. He slaps the hand gripping him under the knees weakly, almost instinctively. Chris winces. Should have warned him before touching. 

“No need to get your hands dirty with all… this.”

Leon weakly waves a hand at the area Chris avoids looking at, was so relieved to cover, the view of blood and come staining the seat of the bike already shocking.   
Leon wasn’t lucky enough to be able to just  _ cover it up _ .   
Chris knows he’s bad at words, never able to find proper ones, to explain what’s on his mind in time, but this situation is so wild - the whole ordeal and Leon seeing himself as something expendable - and the desperate need to do something, to help somehow is choking him from the inside.   
“I’m sorry for what I’m going to do.”   
Leon gasps as Chris embraces him, careful enough not to hurt him more, just trying to form a cocoon of safety with his broad shoulders, create something for Leon to lean on once in a long while.   
“Try to imagine someone you like.”

Leon lets out a small hiccup-like sound.

“Damn, Chris, you’ve…”

It takes Chris a few moments to understand Leon is laughing soundlessly, shoulders shaking under his large hands, his giggles sounding borderline hysterical before he accepts the offer, letting himself fall apart, trembling and sobbing silently, crying into his chest, already so tired, on the edge and barely carrying the burden his whole life turned into, living through the nightmare once again, seizing from the virus, and Chris can only hope he knows he’s not alone now. Having  _ Leon _ , a fighter, a survivor, always standing so strong, in his arms like this leaves him slightly shaken. Drowned under a sudden wave of fondness, he can’t fight the urge, touching the top of Leon’s head with his forehead almost intangibly. Of course, it’s a dumb coincidence, Leon choosing that exact moment to whisper:   
“I’m fine just like that. Or… will be fine.”   
A pause is long, yet devoid of awkwardness. Leon takes a deep shaking breath, shifting slightly, and Chris reacts immediately, letting go, only supporting him in sitting position.   
“Let’s get out of here. We lost too much time already… and the damn BOW barbecue starts bothering me.”

Chris nods, even though he doesn’t regret every single second of those few minutes Leon needed to rise from the ashes.

“Yeah. Let’s find that vaccine and get you back on your feet.”   
Leon doesn’t object anymore as he’s raised up carefully, too exhausted both physically and emotionally.   
The giant body on the floor is still steaming somehow, and Chris considers throwing one more inflammable grenade before closing the door.    
A hand clutches at his vest, drawing attention.   
“The... flask…” Leon barely gets the words out, choked by the new wave of pain, looking at the pile of his destroyed clothes. Slight irritation throws Chris back in time, to the brightly lit hotel, where both of them had the luxury to act like assholes.   
“Leon, no, there’s no time…”   
The man swallows hard, body shivering as he tries to gulp more air, purple veins on his bruised neck pulsing. Shakes his head and grunts as Chris tries to carry him out.   
“Important… a memory.”   
The clothes look as if they were cut off him with some surgical instrument, neat pieces of jeans and leather mixed together, and the heavy metal is glistening in between, easy to locate. The gun is gone, but Leon doesn’t seem to care, clutching the flask to his chest and closing his eyes with a sigh, entrusting himself to Chris for now, leaving the man stunned with the amount of trust once again.   
Leon doesn’t have that many people to be there for him. Most of the time he has no one.

“Redfield, you must promise me… If it goes too far… Shoot.”

Chris growls in frustration quietly. Arias won’t get away with this.    
“No. No fucking way. I’m getting you out. Claire will eat me alive otherwise. And what will I tell Sherry…”   
The man in his hand stiffens, making Chris look down.   
There’s pure horror in Leon’s cloudy eyes, and Chris bites his tongue mid-sentence, mind stumbling and falling into an endless “I’m sorry” chant.   
“I’m sorry,” Chris whispers, unable to hold it back anymore.   
Leon wants to answer something when a seizure rips through his body, making him snarl quietly, biting on his lip, the low guttural sound interrupted by a sob, eyelashes wet as he tries to hold back reflective pained tears, infection taking over him slowly but surely, turning him into one of the creatures he spent his lifetime fighting.   
“Hang on. Please, hang on. There’s an end to this shit, it all has meaning, all your hard work. You just need some rest. And a vaccine.”   
He receives a pissed look, almost grotesque on a zombie-like face.   
“What I really need is a gun and a pair of grenades… and some help with finding a fucking pair of pants, god, that’s embarrassing.”   
Chris fights the sudden wave of crazy affection. This man deserves so much better than what the government turned his life into. Maybe leaving him to find “someone better” wasn’t a wise decision, after all. Neither for Claire.    
Nor for himself.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I blame my friends Tveck and Kao for this entirely. We talked about the bikes and Leons and I was shown a picture of a person shibari-tied to a bike and then this happened. Been written in summer, rewritten a million times, still not sure I’m satisfied with it but u need to let it go :)c
> 
> Also the formatting looks horrible, will fix it.


End file.
